


Bachelor Party

by Salustra



Series: Cuddleverse [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 05:31:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1333891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salustra/pseuds/Salustra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CONTENT:  first time. <br/>SUMMARY: Sherlock and John go to a bachelor party and things happen at home after. <br/>SPOILERS: None really<br/>DISCLAIMER: Playing wit the boys, but we’re just having fun.  No money made, don’t sue us!  (or, in more formal language-  <br/><b>Copyright Disclaimer</b> I do not own any characters, products or services depicted in this story which you recognize. Original characters/characterization and plot are mine. Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Angel The Series characters are OOC and I cite section 107 of the US copyright clause on 'fair use' to be found <a href="http://www.copyright.gov/fls/fl102.html"><b>HERE</b> </a><br/>    Principally this is a transformative work, for enjoyment only, has a selective audience and I make no profit. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bachelor Party

Things had continued for a while in this same pattern. Days were more or less normal, except Sherlock was actually eating on most days and woke up humming every morning. Nights were cuddling in bed and they'd dropped the pretense of waiting for the middle of the night to press up against each other. It was frustrating for John, sexually, but there was always the shower and a good morning wank to handle frustration. 

The kisses were more of an occasional thing but all the more welcome for that. John treasured them. He had no idea how Sherlock felt about them because the one thing they _did not_ do was to discuss things. John had tried once and then gave it all up as a very bad idea. 

Things continued along in the pattern...until the night of the Bachelor Party for some old army buddy of John's. Sherlock has insisted on coming along and as neither of them were particularly heavyweight drinkers, they both ended up stumbling home blotto very early in the evening. 

For a while they both just lay in the bed more or less fully dressed, sleeping off the booze. When they could get up they took off their clothes and were both just in boxers in bed, too drunk and too uncoordinated to manage anything else. They cuddled in close, and that was to be it for the night, right? Not so fast. 

Sometime in the middle of the night, John woke up to a hand on his boxers, slowly stroking him. It was not his own hand. He made a fairly unmanly squeak and a slightly slurred voice came from behind him. "I thought you'd like this, judging by your predictable morning wank," Sherlock said. 

"Of course," John started in the same squeak, then cleared his throat. "Of course I like it, the question is why are you doing this? You're drunk and you'll regret it in the morning." 

Sherlock sighed. "What is the possible value of things done that one never can regret? If it helps, I calculated this was likely to happen. I even did the research as to what sort of lubrication might be best and purchased it. There's some Astroglide in the bedside table near you. Kindly get it, unless you're really serious about this not happening." 

"You...calculated. Astroglide?" John's brain was short-circuiting a bit but he reached over for the lube all the same. It was there precisely as Sherlock had said. 

"Yes, I calculated that going to a bachelor party and consuming a large quantity of alcohol would lower both of our inhibitions enough for this to happen, and I _insisted_ on coming. Does that tell you what you need to know?" 

"It does." Sherlock wanted to do this, and he knew John wanted it, and he also knew that a lifetime virgin who'd all but ignored sex would need a little lowering of inhibitions for it to happen, so he'd arranged it. It wasn't a drunken lark, it was a definite practical experiment to see if the right conditions could allow things to happen for them. John could accept it from Sherlock when he wouldn't believe it of any other person. He handed the lube to Sherlock and they both skimmed out of their boxers. 

In the dim light of the room, John finally got to see Sherlock in all his pale perfect glory. He rolled over and pressed against him for a kiss, initiating instead of waiting for Sherlock to do it. His hands slid down over Sherlock's chest and drew a groan from the taller man. 

Meanwhile Sherlock was trying to open the Astroglide and finally managing, getting some on his fingers and pushing into John. He had an idea of how things were done. He had, in fact, researched it specifically for this purpose. He got a moan and a shudder from John and decided he'd done it right, and started shallowly thrusting with his fingers. 

It might have been easier, Sherlock pondered, to have John doing this to him and maybe later they'd try it, but Sherlock needed desperately for this first time to be under his control. It was difficult enough conceding within himself that he wanted something as messy as sex and emotional entanglement without giving up physical control as well. 

John was pushing back against the fingers and wondering why he'd never just had the gumption to try this on Sherlock. Most likely because he had been sure Sherlock would react badly and it would be separate bedrooms and no more cuddles or kisses and he couldn't bear that. 

It didn't take long for fingers not to be enough for Sherlock and he spread lube on his own hard member and rolled John onto his belly. Looking at John directly would have been too naked, too intimate, and Sherlock definitely wanted it to happen and not stop in the middle. He spread John's legs and pushed between them and then ohgod ohgod he was inside and it was so much more than he'd ever thought. 

John was being as compliant as he could because he didn't want for this to stop either. He needed Sherlock inside him, now that the subject had been broached, and this was just fine with him being on his belly. It meant he could moan and make silly faces and whatever else came naturally without worrying about how Sherlock would react to them. 

Sherlock began to move, slowly, ever so slowly, and he thought he was coming close to passing out from the sensations. It was easy to dismiss sex as nothing when one hadn't _had_ it, and he didn't know if he could ever manage the same nonchalance about it again. 

John lifted his ass and pressed back against Sherlock and heard a groan from above. All right, apparently that was a popular move. He began to rock with Sherlock and there was a small window of heaven when they both stopped thinking and just _were_ with each other. It was all to brief. Neither of them were up to sexual gymnastics after the night they'd had and climax came very soon for both of them. 

Sherlock rolled over onto his back. How the hell was he going to deal with this in the morning? Not long after both he and John passed out into deep and dreamless sleep and there was nothing, til Sherlock awoke in the morning. 

He was humming.


End file.
